Sicknote's Summer Adventure
by juliasejanus
Summary: Sequel to Sicknote. Remission does not mean cured. Alex decides to see if he has real family, just as potential bone marrow donors of course, because anyone related to Ian Rider was bound to be a loser, right?
1. Chapter 1

The sixteen year old, thin youth was nervous, he went through his reactions from his full on sweaty palms, dry mouth and his heart beating ten to the dozen. It was stupid to be nervous, it was just a meeting with a bunch of old people with a shared interest in family history attending a weekly group at Kensington Library. Well, he needed help as he had no idea of where to start in his quest to trace where his parents came from, with the ultimate goal to see if he had any cousins or distant family. It was a necessity, because of his leukaemia. If he was fit and well he would have steered clear of anyone related to Ian Rider. This was his back up plan, just in case he needed a bone marrow transplant. The rule was that if his cancer came back, he would need to get the closest genetic match for a donor and a family member was the best bet. The closer the relation the better, only Alex had no one.

It was cold of him, as he really did not care if there were any Rider's or Beckett's out there. He blamed the godfather effect for that as Ash had been the ultimate Judas. First up was finding out where Helen Beckett and John Rider haled from. Considering he had been brought up by his paternal uncle, he had no idea where John or Ian had gone to school, only that Ian had a first from Cambridge and John had been career army until MI6 had gotten their claws into him. Ian had a bland 'home counties' standard English accent and never mentioned his past except in generalisations, not one long term friend or any other family were every discussed. He had never really told Alex anything meaningful about his parents, period. So here he was about to enter the Family History Room to see how you went about finding out about your past, when all you had was a couple of names, a few dates and two photos.

He had been putting this off since March, but he had been concentrating on his GCSE's. That hurdle was now done and dusted, coursework handed in and exams all done. This personal project may be a hiding to nothing, but it was a small thing on his to do list. He put his hand on the brass door plate and entered the anteroom.

"Hello?" his voice croaked and he felt like dying of embarrassment.

One of the old guys looked up from his files and notes and smiled "Good evening. Need some help getting started on your family tree?"

"Err… well, not really. I'm looking for living family members not dead. I'm an orphan, in foster care and well; I need to trace if have any family for medical reasons".

The seven people there were then staring at the teenager with the baseball cap on. Alex then unveiled his very wispy regrowth of soft blond hair. "Yeah, I have cancer, in remission thankfully, but just in case, its good to have a back up plan. My name's Alex Rider by the way."

"Right Alex, this is a slightly unusual search but I think we can all chip in and help. I'm Stephen by the way. Let me introduce everyone else.." The introductions included not just names but a summary of each person's goals at the group. As everyone gathered around to help Alex. He pulled out his short list of facts and his couple of photos of his birth parents.

So Alex learned about film and fiche readers and the wonders of internet searches. That evening Alex had a game plan but he was going to cheat. He emailed Derek Smithers and Paul Roscoe for ideas on more direct approach to searches. Alex already had his first pieces of information photocopied from the microfiche, Ian's death certificate and his parent's marriage certificate.

…

Sabina had graduated High School and was all set for Harvard in the Fall on a full scholarship. Her work fundraising as well as her excellent grades had not set her apart, but her school web page had, the interview panel had been very interested in her hard work on promoting inclusiveness and helping the wider community. She had also worked hard on the school paper and three of her articles had been published in the local paper, which meant she was seen as ticking all the right boxes for future investigative journalist with integrity and distinction. This summer, she was going to hang out with her friends and on top of that list was a week with Alex, before both of them joined her parents for a holiday in France.

On the plane journey, she had read through the family history project Alex had sent her. It had been a real detective story, finding out fact he had living relations, a uncle , half brother to John and Ian, and cousins he knew nothing about. He had hit a dead end with his mother, Helen Beckett had been an only child orphaned at fifteen, then brought up be maiden aunt. Both women were long dead. The only living family on the maternal side, were really distant cousins of descended from his Great-Great Uncle Matthias and living in New Zealand and South Africa.

John and Ian Rider had grown up in a hamlet called Little Hayfield in Derbyshire. John and Ian had a living half sibling and a step-brother, as their father had remarried in 1967, a fact that had probably caused the rift in the family. Daniel Rider and his family of wife Margaret and two children still lived at Hey Wood Farm, which had been in the Rider family for generations. He had a Great Aunt with four children and over fifteen cousins. Alex had still to find out if John and Ian's mother, Camille had any other family.

As the plane approached London, Sabina visited the bathroom and in the cramped space, had a good wash, brushed her hair and reapplied her make-up. She sprayed herself with her favourite perfume. It was classic and not overpowering. The fragrance was also a tradition, the same scent worn by her mother Liz.

…

Family for the sixteen year old was the Popler's and the Pleasure's, but Alex was curious about the big family row between Jack Rider and his sons, Ian and John; for them both to leave, never go back and in Ian's case never mention the place. Would he be opening a can of worms? It wasn't like Alex had any real experience with families. He did not foresee any close relationships forming as these people, who were all were living happy normal lives, having growing up in one place. No he was a fish out of water on this subject, but he decided for a long lost family member getting in touch, an over the phone introduction would not cut it. He was going to see what mess the Rider brothers had left and if anyone would talk to John's son. Unlikely as John had avoided a murder charge on a technicality. The reality of his 'legend' to get a foothold with Scorpia was still visible in old newspapers. His father in 1983 had been in Wormwood Scrubs on remand for murder. Probably the last time any of his family had heard of him or his younger brother, as none had come to Ian's funeral.

Alex packed his ruck sack and took it downstairs to the hall. Sabina was already there with her Blackberry in her hand, texting. Her skill was at communicating, via text, email, blog and various online chatrooms. Alex could guess she was actually ticking off her check list for the trip. Train tickets to Manchester, a million emergency phone numbers, and a to-do list from Jen and Liz on how to mother Alex to death.

"Taxi will be here in five, we should get to Euston with forty minutes to spare. Are you sure Ben's place in Manchester is suitable? Dad tells me horror stories about med students from his time at Uni. Dirty underwear everywhere, unhygienic kitchens and unspeakable toilets."

"He's a junior doctor and he was well trained by Jen. It'll be lovely. I bet Edward was actually telling you the details of his student accomodations. All that dirt and squalor will be artistic licence. We can ruin his life and tidy up anyway."

"Speak for yourself, Rider. I follow your advice since Scotland and make a habit of ignoring whatever my dad is researching. If I do not know what crap he's involved with, I will not be drawn into any plots, get kidnapped or threatened, or have any unfortunate accidents. So, its just a trip to Manchester to track down your Great Aunt Eleanor, then a visit to New Mills and see your uncle Daniel." Sabina then put away her phone only to pull out a compact and check her makeup.

"Yeah, simple." Alex was glad to cover himself up in his familiar disguise of hat, sunglasses and generic clothes.

….

Sabina looked at the map of the Peak District and double checked Alex's detailed travel plans and notes. Her partner in crime was asleep sprawled out on the double seat the other side of the table on the Virgin Train from Euston to Manchester. It was all quite an adventure, Sabina was also planning to visit the Coronation Street set, as she had never been to Manchester before. Ben Popler was living in a shared flat close to the Manchester Royal Infirmary, where he was about to start working as a junior doctor in A&E. Sabina was nervous about starting her undergraduate degree, but she would soon make friends and work very hard. She was already in contact with charities in the area. She would continue to do voluntary work. She then wondered if Alex would have the energy to do the voluntary work at the care home in Chelsea he'd signed up for in August. He had probably already timetabled to sleep most of July.

Alex woke as the train started to slow down for the stop in Stoke-on-Trent. He noted Sabina was reading the book she had bought at the railway station and he remembered that was how his good friend passed each journey with a newly bought book, be it good or bad, classic or modern. Sabina had been through many stations and airports in her short life.

"Sorry for falling asleep, I blame the rhythm of going over rails. Funny really, as I can never sleep on a plane." Alex stretched and sat up. "I never told you, but I went to Bermondsey to see the flat my mum lived in when she was working at Guy's, my first home. It was a pokey one bedroom flat in a council block. I never realised I had such low rent beginnings. I wonder if I'd still be there if my mum had divorced my dad instead of deciding to go to France with him."

Sabina stared at her good friend and tried to gauge what was going on in his head. "Playing what-if today. Not so long ago you told me there were no if, buts or maybes, just what happened; so deal with it. You have a lovely family now. I really like the Popler's. You even have dozens of siblings, considering Jen and Peterhave been fostering for longer than we've been alive."

"My mum's neighbour remembered her. I talked to Mrs. Patel. She gave me tea and fed me biscuits and told me my mother was a lovely and vivacious and that I was a beautiful baby. She also told me what a nasty piece of work my birth father was. He treated Helen shockingly. I have to wonder why she let him sting her along. He must have told her whopping lies considering he was an f-ing spy for the Bank."


	2. Chapter 2

The bus into Cheadle had been half full. Alex sat and stared out of the window trying not to be nervous. His game plan was to meet his Great Aunt Ellie first. From the correspondence, he had found out John and Ian had lived with her after their mother became too ill to look after them and stayed until his grandfather remarried. John had been fifteen when Daniel had been born in 1969. His uncle was a complete unknown, Ian had never mentioned him. Most family disputes centred on money. His grandfather had died in 1982, when Ian had left me to attend Cambridge. Sounded like his step mother had run the farm. His hands were gripping his thighs as he tensed trying to ignore the urge to bit his nails.

Sabina noticing the tension in Alex's frame on the just too narrow bus seat, gripped his hand to reassure him. "It'll be OK, Alex. Even if it all goes pear shaped with your father's family; I'm here, I'm your BAMF sister. As you said it had to have been one hell of a falling out for John and Ian to both walk away from here and never come back or even mention their half brother. You know that family has nothing to do with genes and everything to do being there and getting through bad times and good. Anyway Mrs. Eleanor Winifred Brown, nee Rider, sounded quite nice in her letters. She agreed to meet, so its going to be fine."

The sheltered housing unit was two storey, brick built, modern and utilitarian block set in nice gardens in a quiet residential area. The sixteen year old was armed with pamphlets and more detailed literature on his condition and the basics of the necessary procedures for bone marrow donation. The old lady was his first port of call as she was his introduction to a whole clan. A really strange idea for a boy who had grown up as an orphan with a guardian who had kept his son's only child at arms length never not wanting to be called dad or uncle.

The caretaker, Julie, was a kind and lovely forty-something who showed the two teenagers through to the lounge and then went to get Wni, to let her know her guests had arrived. It was well before lunch and the room was empty. Alex sat and wondered if the local pub served decent food, he fancied a large ploughman's platter, if he was really lucky it would be serv ed with a real bottle of coke, not the crap from a pump on the bar. An old lady shuffled in, helped by a walking stick and by Julie. Alex stood up and introduced himself. "Hello Mrs. Brown, I'm Alex… Alex Rider and this is my foster-sister Sabina Pleasure."

The old woman sat and stared for a moment. "You look like John. It was quite a shock to find out that you were in care and had no idea you had any living relatives. I last time I saw John was in 1979. He came to Debra's wedding, she's my youngest daughter. She and her family emigrated to Australia a few years ago." The caretaker then interrupted the monologue with tray of tea.

Alex had kept details of his childhood fairly sketchy. "So, a brief update on my family history is needed. I was orphaned at three months. John and Helen died in a plane crash. Ian then got custody. He died two years ago. It was a very small funeral." In hindsight, Alex also wished he had not attended. "I've been through various placements until I got ill last year. I was then living with Sabina and her parents in the States. I came back to London for diagnosis and treatment. Since Christmas I've been living with Jen and Peter Poplar".

"You said in your letter you were getting over a serious illness, but you did not mention what."

"I have Leukaemia, AML." The shock evident on the old lady's face. The teenage boy took a sip of the tea. "I don't have any idea about any family history, as Ian never spoke much about my parents and nothing at all about anyone else. I only found out about you all as part of my long term keeping well project. I might need a bone marrow transplant, which requires a decent DNA match, a close family relative is best. I have some literature from the Cancer Research UK and the Anthony Nolan Trust. I also have some medical articles that Sabina got about teenage cancer survival rates. My form of cancer is aggressive, but thankfully has been treated successfully by chemotherapy. If the cancer comes back I may need a bone marrow transplant."

The old woman sat and drank her tea, the leaflets remained on the table unread. "John left after a huge row with his father. He was a strong willed boy, ran a bit wild. He got a place at uni, paid for by the trust from his late mother. Jack was always resentful that Camille left all her money to her boys. Nothing for him. John moved away and well, only came back occasionally, not at all after Ian left".

Alex knew Camille Devereux had been married before, her first husband died in 1950. John born in 1955, three months after his grandparent's wedding.

"Jack and Camille were chalk and cheese. It was passionate, but not a happy marriage overall. Ian born after their first separation. I never knew her at all well. What she saw in Jack I'll never know. He was a rum one. Both boys spoke French, German and Spanish at home. She encouraged them to box and taught them martial arts long before those films made it popular. Rumour was she'd been in SOE during the war and had been carrying on with Jack while married to her first husband." The woman sighed. "I looked after both boys when their mother was in hospital and then afterwards. It was a tight squeeze, eight of us in our semi. Not that my Dean minded, more the merrier he said. Jack married Sybil and then both boys moved back to Hey Wood. I saw John more than Ian. He used to regularly cycle up here to visit. Never got on with his step mother. Both boys were very bright and driven. Played Cricket and football at county level, got to university. Both left home and never bothered with their father again. Jack died of a heart attack in 1983. Your uncle Daniel is a nice enough young man. Polite hard working, not a drinker or a womaniser. His wife Maggie is a real hard worker, lay preacher at the Chapel. She would have taken you in Alex. Treated you as one of her own. She visits me more than my own children do."

"I phoned Mrs. Rider, Margaret. I'm meeting her this afternoon. I came up just to make everyone aware that I might need tissue matching. I'm not after a place to live or anything. Money wise, I'm OK. I have a good home, the Poplar's are brilliant, so are Sabina's parents. I came to visit you, because you knew John and to tell you the truth. John and Ian both worked for MI6. You probably think John was a murderer, when he was in fact playing a part to become a deep cover agent for MI6. Its all completely top secret, but a friend of his told me the details. Ian died because his luck ran out. He wasn't a brilliant parental figure, in fact he was a cold manipulative bastard. I'm really grateful to my foster families for repairing a lot of the damage caused by Ian's bad parenting."

The old woman sat back and gave this stranger a long look. "John was brought up on his mother's tales of daring-do from the Second World War. I guess Ian also romanticised Camille. Both boys died so young. Now you're ill. Its in your genes, your Grandmother died of cancer. She made it to forty. I hope you have better luck. Daniel takes after his mother. I think it'll be a miracle if you get a decent match from your Uncle."

…..

Sabina sat in the pub picking at her sandwich. "Eat up Alex darling. Its another long bus ride to New Mills."

Alex looked at his plate of pie and chips. He had really wanted a proper ploughman's, not something this family pub offered. He picked up four sachets of ketchup and proceeded to smother the potatoes in the red sauce. He had learned this trick from Melissa on Elephant Ward, if you had to eat but did not want to smother the offending food in ketchup, brown sauce or mayonnaise and just shovel the crap down. The only thing you could taste was sweet vinegary sauce.

Sabina looked away, thoroughly disgusted by Alex's eating habits. "That is possibly the worst habit you picked up at Great Ormond Street Hospital. I nearly died when you covered the roast turkey with ketchup at Christmas. Mum would have made you anything you wanted, you know; but you had to be a complete barbarian."

"Its the flaccid chips, I need to disguise them. They are soft and a bit greasy. I need the calories. Low blood sugar was making me feel queasy before we came in here." Alex shovelled the food in his mouth. "Pie's good. No ketchup needed on that. Do you want to try it?"

"No your murder scene chips put me off." Sabina ate her own prawn sandwich and pondered the old lady they had met with that morning. "She never asked you to call her Aunty Ellie."

"I'm only her nephew on paper. I get that we are never going to be anything but strangers. I got her children's addresses. I'll write to my cousin's requesting they join the Donor Register. Thats the end of the story. She already knew that Ian had died two years ago. No one cared about John's orphaned child then, why would they care about me now."


	3. Chapter 3

Margaret Rider, Mags to her friends, was waiting to meet her nephew on neutral ground, in the Station cafe in New Mills. Her boys with their father, busy on the farm. She had spoken to Winny earlier, who had described John's boy was frail, thin and pale. Margaret had never met John nor his wife Helen. Winnie had photos of John looking so handsome in his dress uniform, resplendent with ribbons and medals. Ian had been too busy to attend his half brother's wedding in 1990. Mags had only spoken with Ian on the phone, and he came over as friendly enough, but it had been obvious he had no love for Dan as he had not kept in contact, not even to tell his brother and sister-in-law he was raising his orphaned nephew. It seemed a funny secret to keep, what had Ian been afraid of, that they'd have raised Alex not him.

This farmer's wife had been a regular blood donor since her late teens, this would be the first time she he had met a child who had needed multiple units of blood. Now, she had to get her insecure husband to see sense. The past was over and done with, both Ian and John had left Derbyshire as soon as they could, as teenagers. She was well aware there was no bonds between the older Rider's and their half brother. Dan had never talked about John after his arrest, washed his hands of the murderer. Ian had died over two years ago and no one had notified them.

Now she was having tea, but could make no promises, not without Dan's say. She was here to see if her nephew was worth the fight it would take to get a bull-headed Rider to see reason.

….

Nothing prepared Alex for dealing with the complexity of real families, definitely not the facsimile he had grown up with. It was strange enough that the Poplar's were making him official by adopting him. So, with a great set of parents came a nice grandmother, really annoying brothers, but also the aunt/uncle/cousin who thought Alex was a pikey. The teenager thought of them as his personal Dursley's and was thankful he was over sixteen and would never have to live in their cupboard under the stairs if the unthinkable happened and SCORPIA crawled out of the woodword. Sabina thought the Dursley quip was funny, as Alex really had gone to the Chelsea and Kensington equivalent of St. Brutus' with all the excluded and difficult kids.

Now he was in Derbyshire exploring and building bridges with the family Ian never mentioned. As Aunty Maggie refreshed their cups of tea, Alex wondered if he should ask the unanswered questions. Did you know about me? You know after John and Helen died or even after Ian died? Would you have taken me in? Why didn't you, because Ian was a shit parental figure. He did not need to torture himself over the past. Instead he pulled out his pamphlets on Leukaemia and bone marrow transplants. "So, I'm in remission, but there's a fair chance I'll have a relapse or develop a secondary cancer. The chances of you guys being a decent donor match is slim, but I'm giving you the heads up in case I need bone marrow. I don't expect you to be family, how can you be, not when your boys are strangers related to me by one grandfather. Also, I'm going through adoption at the moment, so its not like you need to like or even I tolerate me."

Maggie listened to this hardened and bitter survivor, guessing Ian had been a neglectful guardian for Alex to not expect anything from his father's estranged family. She had sent cards to Ian for years, Christmas and Birthdays, invites to family events politely declined, and not once had he mentioned John's son. She had met him once regarding the deeds to the farm, which he had signed over, but Alex was in a position to sue considering the place had been left in equal parts to all three Riders and Alex was both Ian's and John's sole beneficiary. No wonder Dan was worried sick after finding out John's son was also Ian's heir.

Alex was trying to read this woman's body language as she drank tea, it was obvious she did not know what to make of her unexpected nephew, but was looking a bit pissed off. He continued "If you have qualms, its fine tell me now and I'll leave you guys alone." The sixteen year old pulled his baseball cap out of his bag and put it on his head. Sabina taking the signal, collected her stuff as well. Alex waved the waitress over and gave her a twenty pound note and mumbled "keep the change".

The guest found her voice, "I'm willing to sign up, but your uncle's a stubborn bastard. I think you should meet, but not at the farm. The local show is on in three days at Belper, can you come to that? Meet your uncle and cousins and tell Dan to his face your getting adopted and please be free to tell him exactly how you feel about Ian." She drained her cup of tea and spelled out the problem. "Ian never mentioned you in all the years we corresponded. Why would he keep you a secret?"

Alex had a good idea and it all boiled down to training John's son to be a weapon for MI6 and nothing to do with any feud over the farm. Rather than speak ill of the dead, Alex ignored his aunt's question. "We'll come to the show, well Sabina and me. My big bro in Manchester has crazy shifts so may but probably won't be with us."

….

Dan Rider came in from evening milking to see his wife reading a bunch of pamplets on cancer and bone marrow transplants. "That looks serious? Are you volunteering or is someone we know ill?"

"Not exactly. You know Alex wrote to us and Aunty Winnie?"

"I told you to ignore it." This situation was likely to end up in court.

Margaret decided to be brutally honest. "Alexander John Rider has leukaemia. He's looking up his relatives because he might need a bone marrow transplant. He's not after money or the farm, just the chance of growing up. Anyway, he's in the process of being adopted by the couple who've looked after him since Christmas. I couldn't do that, take in a child knowing he's got a one in four chance of dying before he hits 25."

…

Ben Poplar was borrowed his girlfriend's car for the family outing to Belper; which sounded like it could either end the Rider family feud or reignite it for a new generation, if this uncle was enough of a control freak to deny a sick kid a chance of survival. It sounded like Uncle Dan was quite a lot like Ian Rider, selfish, self centred and only seeing the worst in Alex. The little Alex had said over the last three days could be summed up by it did not matter as he was almost a Poplar, as the court date was set at the beginning of September to finalise the adoption. Goodbye all links to the Riders, dead and alive

Ben checked the back seat, as he put on his safety belt and he could see his delicate little brother looked tired and was being mothered by Sabina. He had worked a 72 hour shift this week with his brother on holiday and Alex beat him in the looks like death warmed up competition. Putting on his full 'I'm a doctor' persona he ordered "Two hours there max. Then home for takeout Indian and watching Sabina's choice on TV since all my DVD suck."

Sabina said cooly, "There are other genres of film, not just martial arts and manga."

Alex piped up as the car drove off "Hey, Three were nominated for best film awards."

"The Godfather, Chinatown and Scarface are just not my cup of tea, though I might find them suitable viewing after meeting Daniel Rider." Sabina, like Alex could not fathom the family dynamic, even with John Rider's chequered past. She was happy to sit reading as Alex slept, her brother using her as a cushion.

Alex had never been to a farm show before. All the more strange as this was the life John and Ian had grown up in, the sons of a farmer. Despite no real knowledge or interest in agricultural machinery, animals on show or the farm produce, the teenager liked the vintage cars, bikes and tractors. He could not decide if he liked the TR6 or the MGB best, severe examples were in classic British Racing Green. Two seater pocket rockets were something to aspire to, not that he could remotely afford even a real scrapheap model.

Sabina could see some showjumping was scheduled later, but she would not force Alex to stay for that. "Lets get the nitty gritty over with. I'll ask that steward where to find Daniel Rider."

….

Daniel Rider was chatting with his neighbour Charlie, a judge for sheepdog trials, when he immediately recognised a young man standing next to a tall, leggy brunette. The teenager took off his glasses and squinted in the bright sunshine. There stood John Rider's son. It was Charlie that piped up "Jesus, your long lost nephew looks just like Johnny."

"Doesn't he just." Dan could see the boy was skinny, pale and looked like a strong wind would blow him over, whereas John had always been fit as a fiddle and as strong as an ox. "Did Maggie tell you he was sick?"

"Cancer, she said. Spent six months in that Great Ormond Street Hospital. She's already organising fundraising with the WI. Go say hello, then before the kid runs off. Poor kid looks like he's afraid you'll tear him a new one."

Daniel then could see his fears were for nought. Alex was a London boy born and bred with no idea of farming or any wish to live away from all he knew. Here only to lengthen the odds on surviving.

He watched as the kid pulled out his pamphlets, his steadfast foster sister holding his hand for moral support.

Alex's feet felt like lead as he moved towards his uncle. How he hated that word. The man the same height and built as Ian, same cold eyes. "Sir, I'm Alex." The sixteen year old was glad of the paper in his hand preventing him even attempting to shake hands. He made no mention of the troubled relationship with John and Ian and kept to business only. "Could you please read these and I promise I have no intension of darkening your door. Thankfully, its unlikely I'll need any further treatment, but this is belt and braces for me."

"Sure thing, Alex. No problem."

Alex turned and marched over to the refreshments tent. He whispered to Sabina "Fuck, he was just like Ian. Same stare, same tone of voice." The recovering teen wanted to scream how much he hated Ian, how angry he was about being ill, being used and abused, being left to cope alone.

Sabina saw the formidable queue. "Sit, I'll get drinks and a snack. Keep calm and rest up. Tea and sympathy will take about ten minutes."

Sympathy? No Alex was in the mood for impulsive destruction. He took a deep breath and stared off into space, lost in memories. Ben then sat down and handed over an ice lolly. "Got you an orange pop. Sabina's cola one will be melted by the time she sits down so you might as well scoff hers as well."

"Need it I'm parched. Can we go after tea? Need to pack anyway." Alex turned to see his uncle chatting with his wife and two boys looking his way. He then whispered a prayer "Please don't come over. Please don't come over.."

"Sorry, squirt, they're coming over. I'll field the questions, you can just grunt in teen speak."

The twenty five tear old medic stood up and held out his hand "Dr. Ben Poplar, Alex's brother. Pleased to meet you."


	4. Chapter 4

The adults were busy talking. Ryan and Dean Rider were nine and eleven years old, but were well aware their family dynamic had changed in the last few weeks. They had noted the sudden tension at home and guessed it had to do with the mysterious Rider cousin getting in contact. Dean stared at the sixteen year old and his supposed brother. He had read about AML after mum left the leaflets on the kitchen table. The teenager looked ill, shivering in the warm tent. "Hi, Alex I'm Dean, this is Ryan. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Alex said without making eye contact, looking over to Sabina, hoping for her to scare the two boys onto silence.

Sabina then put down a tray of tea for five, three cans of coke, four butterfly cakes and a ham sandwich. "Right, trouble. Eat the sandwich or no lime pickle for you tonight. Small bites and I brought ketchup in my handbag, if it needs help. I'll be mother and pour." Then turning her attention to the two boys she smiled and introduced herself, "I'm Sabina Pleasure by the way, Alex's ever thoughtful and divine foster sister."

Alex smirked and took a bite out of the sandwich. "Goddess, much like Mummy Liz."

Ryan picked up a cake and inhaled it in two bites. Sabina then offered him another. "Watch Alex, this is how you are meant to act. Not have me mother you to eat." The girl then sipped her tea. Watching her brother drink alternate sips of coke and tea.

Happier after an intense question and answer session concerning Alex and his future. Margaret guessed the Poplar's as a professional couple with years of fostering experience were ideal for Alex. Ben spoke of a houseful of kids and the fact his parent were now concentrating on Alex, who was finally coping, not only with his serious illness, but the psychological effect of neglect and abuse.

It had all been so black and white for Dan, only fifteen when John had been arrested for murder damning him to all locally as a bad lot. Only he'd been acquitted after five months in prison on remand, mostly due to the tireless campaigning of his wife, getting the press on her side and the backing of decent legal team pro bono. Only now he'd found out that perfect, hard working, conscientious Ian had been abusing his nephew.

Ben carried on his discussion with Alex's estranged family, letting his brother eat in peace. "Alex is sitting four A Levels and his NVQ in Healthcare. Wants to be a radiographer after school or maybe medicine, probably study in London considering his quarterly checkups. He unfortunately is in a high risk group for secondary cancers, which are common with aggressive cancers in children. How many sixteen year old do you know that have written a will and discussed funeral plans." Ben had been there when Alex had dropped that bomb shell with his parents, gran and brother; insisting on cremating in a cardboard box, ashes scattered, no memorial, with a celebration of his life that his friends organised, any money in his name to be given to various charities." Ben was leaving out the high dosage radiation mentioned in his notes. The fact that the decontamination warnings from the Russians had not been followed up and that Alex had diagnosed himself from the internet.

Alex sighed as he finished the not too shabby sandwich and noted his younger cousin was pointing at him. The sixteen year old then noted the splash of blood on the plate. "Fucking hell, Sab! Got any tissues?"

Ben could see the tension in Alex, as all were awarre a nose bleed could be just that, but it was also a sign that his cancer may be back. "Its just a nose bleed, you've been tense, your blood pressure probably got a bit high, so this is not serious, OK. Relax, let your body do its thing, three to five minutes it'll stop." He stood up and pulled out his car keys and handed them to Sabina. "Full kit is in the car with a full change of clothes, since his t-shirt looks like it should be part of a murder scene."

Alex kept his eyes on his watch, five minutes still bleeding, then ten and now the critical twenty minutes.

Ben had gone through all the large dressing pads in the First Aid Kit and the haemorrhaging had not stopped. "OK, we need to get you into the car and to A&E pronto."

Alex stood wobbled alarmingly as he stood up, only half aware as Ben helped him lay on the ground.

…

The sixteen year old woke to a pounding headache and could hear Sabina murmuring softly "Its OK, Alex, we're in an ambulance. You've lost quite a bit of blood and probably need a transfusion again, so back on the Vampire list according to Jamie. You fainted and Ben insisted on a full going over when you did not wake up straight away once we got you horizontal.

Alex groaned loudly, but kept his eyes closed, but squeezing Sabina's hand in reassurance that he understood. He lay and enjoying the peace and quiet before the hullabaloo of the hospital. He would have been better off staying in Manchester rather than dragging everyone to a farm show over fifty miles from Ben's home.

Alex kept his eyes closed as he was taken straight into a cubicle at A&E at the Royal Derby Hospital. He was listening to handover when the prone patient interrupted with "Sorry, but I'm going to be sick." The nurse nearest managed to get their patient on his side, while the junior doctor grabbed a dish just in time for the spewing to commence. Alex heaved three times, expelling all he had eaten that day. "Fuck, can today get any worse? Fainting? Ben will rib me forever about that."

The team leader had listened to the ambulance crew give a very detailed past medical history of a teenager in remission from AML and with pulmonary problems. "OK now Alex, I'm Masud the consultant, sit back and relax and we'll do a primary survey. Good news is your nose bleed has ceased."

Alex was stripped and a rash was noted on the back of his neck was noted as was his heightened blood pressure and elevated temperature. No bruising, though.

The doctor, Masud, was friendly and patient. "Most likely you have a mix of being unwell and stressed, so your nosebleed was a result has heightened your blood pressure, which we want to monitor closely, considering the stint on your pulmonary artery. Your rash is probably an infection, but it may be something more serious going on, as you know. Blood tests I'm afraid and an overnight stay for observation. I'll get your sister to keep you company while I talk to your heart consultant in London."

Sabina and Ben came through. His brother busy talking shop with the junior doctor. Alex watched and listened in, trying to pick up any additional snippets that may suggest they thought it was cancer.

Taking in the stillness of Alex and his furrow of concentration, Sabina butted in, "Stop thinking about this being more than it is. Just stress. So, deep breath in and slow exhale. Just like mum's yoga class."

Alex looked at Sabina, but could see she was not pulling his leg, but seriously looking at the monitor. His foster sister had read up about everything medical about his wonky health "Why aren't you reading medicine?"

"I love writing. I may not carry on the family business and bring down bastards like Cray and Blunt; but telling the truth, even about surviving AML is a story worth publishing. I might write biographies or novels, wait and see."

"Screenplays for bad horror and spy movies or better cross genre B-movies. Full of puns and double entendres. That is something to aspire to. Maybe we should watch something in that line for your to get the idea. Are you guys heading back to Manchester tonight?" Alex wondered the logistics for Ben at work and his and Sab's stuff.

"Yeah, I'll be back here tomorrow, hopefully for us to go back to London, will get our train tickets sorted out tonight and you to see to go back to London."

…..

"So no more adventures this summer, just work, rest and play. How's your new job, Dee? Worth the hassle of child care?" Alex asked as hew poured his girlfriend a cup of tea.

The seventeen year old assistant legal secretary looked at her handsome boyfriend and decided to bite the bullet. "Yeah, the creche is great, Liam loves it, and I've made a bunch of new friends. So you mentioned play, we beed to discuss us? We're friends who date. You don't get handsy at all. Do you want more, Alex? Or is this all down to your impotence?"

Alex sipped his tea and wondered on their lack of intimacy. "I have issues over my body image and I was abused. Sexually. I was very confused over my feelings for one of my abusers. He was an absolute bastard, but had the body of an angel. I'm bi, as you know. I was getting around to the fact being a virgin is getting old, even with my lack of libido. I would love to invite you into my personal space or seeing me in all my scarred glory. It might be me getting you off and percy staying as floppy as he has been for over a year now. How about it?"

Denise woke as Liam started to shuffle about in his cot. She had heard Alex leave an hour ago as he had work today. Having her own small flat was fantastic, the shock of being kicked out by her uptight parents had given her freedom to invite over whoever she fancied and also to bar unwanted guests from her space. She had not planned getting pregnant at fifteen, but shit happens and this harder road had given her independence. The dark haired single mother did not plan for any other siblings for her angel, nor the shackles of marriage considering her mother and father were church going, 'unhappily married' bigots. She sighed and pondered Alex's enthusiastic first attempts at kissing, foreplay and oral sex. As he had predicted, she had orgasmed twice and he had not even got hard. Dean her ex, had never gone down on her. She could understand being a lesbian, if faced with a selfish bastard like that as an alternative. Two lovers, one completely selfish and her new love still suffering from the aftereffects of either psychological damage or the fact he may be impotent. She also had a niggling doubt that he was in denial about his past abuser, though she doubted a truly gay man would have been that intimate with her nether regions.

She got up to start the day as Liam was chatting away to himself. She knew this fling was friends with benefits. Alex was not in any position to offer wine and roses, nor did she want that, just a bit of fun. The good thing was that her boyfriend was singing from the same hymn sheet. Carpe Diem, it could all go to shit tomorrow, and Denise Greenwood was prepared to face all adversity head on.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex pondered which was worse, supervising the olds ladies' exercise class earlier at work or the fact he was once again the number one favourite at the Dojo. To think that Sicknote had been put down for the Southern Counties under 18 Karate championships. Only because Neil had said two regulars were on holiday that week. Alex only considered himself about half fit and had no real drive to win. Even so, he had won most bouts at the club using tactics rather than speed or power. His Sensei was already preparing for a placement in the national championships, with suggested eating plans and intensive training regime emailed and ignored. Alex had emailed back his existing hospital approved detailed eating plan, the one agreed with his nutritionist. He did not want to be restricting his food intake, not when he already had a million control issues. He would get his sensei to hammer out details direct with the hospital to cut Alex out of the loop.

He walked home from practice half contemplating quitting. He knew he wouldn't, karate was calming and structured. A million miles from his dangerous adventures. One of his few pleasant memories of home before everything turned to shit. Even training at Malogosto had been more enjoyable than school, not at all like MI6 or the misery in Wales. At karate he was still a kid, not an asset. No hidden agenda, no Machiavellian schemes, not a hint of abuse. Welcomed back without any of the stigma he had endured at Brookland. Stranger still, he was competing as Alex Popler now. The Rider name consigned to the past, soon to be sealed in his adoption files. If only he could erase the baggage of bad memories. What he needed was a nice case of selective amnesia, like a bad movie script.

With only two weeks holiday left, his game plan was to excel at school above all else. Making it to Medical school was a long shot anyway, but he settle for nursing or radiology dependant on his final grades. He shuddered with the spike of panic, stopped walking and took a deep breath knowing he was stupid to make plans, have goals and assume anything positive in his future. What was the point of plans, hopes and dreams; he was putting down roots when last year his game plan had been running. He had a small amount of rainy day fund left, if needed: now down to under a grand. He felt nauseous with the edge of his need to disappear. Rather than phone home or a friend, Alex took in the familiarity of his walk home, practically the same route used back to Cheyne Walk when he'd attended karate twice a week, before Ian died. . All in all, he had lived in Chelsea most of his life: before he was 5 and since the age of 11. He was a West London kid, not a spy; but he knew that life would always temper everything. He decided to go home before he puked in the street. This month had been going so well, no problems working four half day shifts a week at the Old Folks Home.. Alex then recognised this spot as the exact location of his kidnapping by McCain's thugs. His life was Normal tainted by horror. He was sure he was just being Mr Paranoia.

He took a deep breath preparing to run the three blocks home, at full pelt, no stopping.

The guy hidden behind the rusty Bedford van pondered the panic attack he had just witnessed. Another puzzle about his current assignment for Dr. Three. The kid had been spooked by something, his reaction was a classic case of PTSD. The former paramilitary knew he had not been spotted, considering he had been extra careful not to be noticed.

Alex was still far from as fit as he had been two years ago, the peak of physical perfection honed in Malagosto. Injury and illness meant jogging anything over a mile was serious exertion. He made it to the front step to barf spectacularly, just as his dad arrived back from the supermarket to fuss and force Alex upstairs to bed.

The sixteen year old pulled the duvet over his head and pondered this idyllic family situation he landed in by accident rather than design, as he listened to his dad talk with the GP about this latest blip of stress induced vomiting. From no one giving a shit, to coddled and protected. No chance of MI6 ruining everything again, if he kept having major freak outs. His GCSE results were due tomorrow, the one thing he should be stressing over, but actually was totally chilled about. He was guaranteed a pass considering his excellent coursework and the fact exams were a breeze compared to operations. He was damn sure someone had been following him today, someone good enough to remain out of sight. Alex had only caught a couple of glimpses of a shadow in dark clothing reflected in windows. His instincts were telling him to run, but logically he knew he could not escape if the professional tailing him was out for revenge. Unlikely, as the guy could have either abducted or killed him at any point today. Tired, emotionally drained and having decided running was futile the sixteen year old fell into an uneasy sleep.

…

For a year SCORPIA had been quiet, working quietly in the background as Dr. Three and Brendan Chase consolidated their control in the Far East, as it had taken eighteen months of hard work to regain the Triad territory formerly overseen by Winston Yu. Brutality had been necessary to ensure loyalty, which had meant the two directors had little choice but to leave their fellow Board members in Europe and the Middle East to their own devices. Rothman and Kursk had both failed in their terms as chairman. Both underestimating the resilience of teenage son of John Rider, mistakes ruthlessly exploited by Interpol, MI6 and the CIA. The Grimaldi's death last autumn had meant other like minded business men had cornered the market in power plays, extortion, death and destruction in former SCORPIA strongholds.

Dr Three pondered the cumulative errors which had started sixteen years ago, when his suggestion of wooing Hunter back into the fold had been dismissed in favour of Julia Rothman's revenge using her own MI6 mole. Two years ago, before his death, Cossack had himself had recommended the Board poach the blackmailed child, to offer him safe haven to escape the untenable situation MI6 had placed him in, as a puppet for Blunt and his allies. Again Julia Rothman only thought of revenge against her late lover as she planned to kill Alexander rather than utilise his unique skill set and had engineered the demise of their most successful assassin. Cossack should have been reassigned after he reported Rider's presence with the reporter Edward Pleasure. The old man knew the best business was conducted without emotion, logic and clear sight had established SCORPIA as a force to be reckoned with, now they were seen as laughable has-beens because of the series of mismanaged revenge ploys.

Even eight thousand miles from London, the seventy year old doctor of medicine and psychology had kept tabs on Hunter's only child. He had only a passing professional interest in oncology but had read the notes detailing the boy's initial remission from his cancer. The long term survival projections looked cautiously promising. Now, the sixteen year old was back practicing karate and with adoption in the bag. The boy had escaped his abusers, finally protected by the state. The only surviving founding member of SCORPIA concluded Revenge against a child already fighting his own body for survival was a game not worth playing as all evidence showed Alexander did not consider them the enemy unless provoked first. This true predator, now planning to study to be a doctor, according to his career assessment. A remarkable child overall, considering the abuse and neglect from his former care givers. The old man would rebuild SCORPIA, stronger and more resilient. Learning from the mistakes in the past, assured that a nemesis like Alex Rider was one on a million, and was out of the Great Game. MI6 had wasted such potential by casual misuse. Dr. Three would have made young Rider into his second, a future chairman, not treated him like a pawn in a badly thought out power play. Kursk, Rothman and Rahzim had paid for their mistakes. He and Chase needed to pay heed to the past and honour the original goals of the founding committee. Only a fool expected always to win and not expect unforseen disasters. The old man closed the file. He would honour the will of Yassen Gregorovich, who had bequeathed millions to Hunter's only child. He smiled thinking of the horror that legacy would cause in Liverpool Street.

Dr. Three called in his assistant, to prepare communications with lawyers in Switzerland and social services in London. Bequeathing Cossack's money to Young Mr. Popler would cause a delicious amount of chaos with those bastards at SIS; as he could wager the teenager would give the millions away rather than spend a penny on himself.

…..

At 8:30, Alex was dropped off at Chelsea College by his dad, to pick up his GCSE results. He already had passed four in January, but these were the critical subjects of computing, maths, English and Science. Decent passes were necessary to take his required A levels for university. He was not surpassed to see his girlfriend already there with her son. She, also had her mind set on university. In an hour or so, Alex would meet up with Tom, a young man who had no aspirations beyond relevant NVQ's for catering and hygiene needed to work as a baker.


End file.
